


Don't Go

by delighted



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, First Kiss, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-02-08 01:12:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12853509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delighted/pseuds/delighted
Summary: Steve brings pizza for Danny and the kids, one night when Danny just can’t cope. Steve helps in several ways more than one.





	Don't Go

**Author's Note:**

> So, I had Phillip Phillips’ “Gone, Gone, Gone” stuck in my head, which is such a McDanno song. Ungh. Anyhow.... I’ve been a bit of a mess lately, and I’m supposed to be writing two holiday stories (one of them not-H50, don’t throw things at me, please ;-).... but I realllly needed some comfort fluff. This was just gonna be a short “The Best Medicine” but it grew a little past that, spilling over, so it gets to be its own story. What it is _not_ is edited. So, take it with that in mind. :-)

Danny’s been a little overwhelmed lately. Steve’s not really sure how he knows this. It seems to just flavor the air he breathes. Sometimes he thinks he can see colors rolling off of his partner, and they alert him to Danny’s many moods. He’s sure that’s not really true, that makes him sound like a mind reader and he’s very much not that, but he can’t quite figure out how it is that he’s so attuned to Danny, how he knows, before it happens, that Danny needs to be told to go home early, or needs more coffee, or needs cocoa puffs from Liliha, or needs him to show up after work with pizza and beer. And he does all those things, he always has. It just seems that lately he’s been needing to do them more. Or maybe he needs to _do_ something more.

Wednesday, Danny has both kids, and that hasn’t happened in a while, because Grace has been extra busy with school and sometimes it’s too hard for her to move all her stuff she needs back and forth, so it’s been just Charlie a lot, and Steve knows Danny treasures that, but he also knows, in his bones he knows it, that when Danno doesn’t get time with Gracie, he gets really spectacularly unpleasant to be around, even if you come bearing chocolate and booze and sappy movies (which Steve still doesn’t enjoy, just so he’s clear about that). At any rate, Danny has both kids, and an empty fridge and a messy house, and he’s been freaking out, so he calls Steve. Who’s already ordered pizza, picked up a movie (animated and family friendly, but still sappy, trying to keep all Williams family member happy—it’s a Steve specialty), and is on his way over already, thank you.

The relief in Danny’s voice has a new element to it that Steve doesn’t think he recognizes, and that kind of throws him a little, so he aims for distraction and asks if Danny has any beers in the fridge. He does, so Steve suggests he has one ready for him when he gets there in five minutes. Also, maybe have Grace set the table.

“I could kiss you right now, you know, Steven. Thank you.” And he hangs up, and leaves Steve’s mouth hanging open.

Now, let’s be honest, because that’s something they joke about somewhat regularly. And, okay, there was that one time they’d been drunk enough to follow the joke up with an actual kiss. Steve’s fingers find his lips, as though he can still feel Danny’s on his, and it takes the guy behind him honking for him to realize the light’s turned green.

It’s Charlie who opens the door for Steve, and it’s interesting to try and walk, carrying a stack of pizzas and salad and wings with a small child wrapped around your leg, and Grace looks even more relieved to see Steve than Danny had sounded, and that does something weird to his chest. She takes the boxes from him with a huge smile.

“Please tell me you got the extra spicy wings, I need them tonight,” she calls over her shoulder as she takes the boxes directly to the dining room. “Danno’s in the kitchen,” she adds, as Steve hesitates in the hall.

Well, that doesn’t make him feel strange at all, and then Grace is yelling at Charlie to come wash up, and Steve has the use of both legs again, and he figures, well, beer’s in the kitchen, so.

Danny’s standing there, he’s clearly downed one beer already in the time since Steve had called. There’s more than the usual mess on the counter, and it looks as though maybe he’d tried to come up with something to eat and given up, possibly after burning something or hurting himself, and he’s frayed. Steve senses it like jagged edges of red and orange flaring off him, and then Danny’s eyes meet his, and there’s heat and sparks there, that he swears aren’t usually there. He’s pretty sure about that, because he knows he looks for them, hoping to see them, hoping to see the reflection of how he knows he looks at Danny, all longing and want and need and hope.

Without speaking, Danny moves one of the bottles of beer toward Steve, and he knows he’s imaging things, but it sure seems like the friction of the bottle on the composite resin countertop creates sparks. Steve’s almost afraid to pick the bottle up, afraid it will shock him, so maybe that’s why grabbing it and opening it feels somehow dangerous. That might have something to do with the way Danny’s watching him, though. Because that feels new as well. It’s not his eyes he watching, Steve realizes. It’s his lips. And maybe Danny’s crack about kissing Steve had stirred something up in him as well, and isn’t that a tantalizing thought.

“Guys, pizza’s getting cold!” is followed swiftly by “Grace is eating all the wings!” and “Shush!”

Danny practically drops his bottle on the counter and rubs his hands over his eyes. “Oh, god, I do not have the strength for this tonight,” he mutters, and Steve isn’t at all sure he means the kids, which is a strange sensation, and he pushes it away, grabbing a fresh beer for Danny, another for him.

“Do they have drinks?” He asks, placing a hand lightly on the small of Danny’s back to try and steer him towards the dining room.

Danny shudders at the touch, and Steve almost thinks he leans back into it. He nods, and starts slowly walking out of the kitchen.

Grace has left her homework half out on the long table, so they’ve crowded at the far end to eat, she and Charlie squeezed in on the one side, Danny’s spot at the head left open for him, and a place for Steve on Danny’s other side. When he sits, Steve finds he’s very aware of Danny having scooted his chair closer to him, seemingly to make a little more room for Charlie, so he’s not squished up next to Grace, and Steve wants it to be more than that, wants it to be that Danny needs him, to ground himself, to keep him present and functioning, so when they sit back, having loaded up their plates from the precariously stacked boxes, and Danny’s calf presses into Steve’s, he finds he’s not surprised so much as relieved. Still, he thinks Danny’s nervous energy must be transferring to him through the contact, and he has to work hard to suppress the shivers that want to thread up through his leg. Taking a long drink from his beer, he catches Grace watching him over a half eaten wing. She slowly lowers the wing for more sauce, then puts it back to her mouth. With her eyes, she draws his attention to Danny, who isn’t eating. He presses his leg more firmly against his partner, leans in a little and says, in a stage whisper: “I thought about getting pineapple on the pizza this time, but decided I valued my life.”

Charlie finds this completely hysterical in the way that only little boys who are over tired and haven’t had enough food can be, and he laughs and laughs and laughs, until everyone else has no choice but to join in, and it’s like something’s lifted. Danny’s leg stays next to Steve’s throughout the meal, which lasts slightly longer than pizza and wings typically does in the Williams house, and Grace offers to clear the dishes while Steve and Danny finish eating, and when she does she brings back two more beers, and sets them down between them, taking the empty boxes out to the back to throw them away. When she comes back, she makes sure Charlie’s washed up and brushed teeth and got his pajamas on, then sends him to his room to play for a bit. She grabs a book off the stack at the end of the table, catches Steve’s glance, and sends it, again, towards her father, then heads for the sofa, clicking on the TV softly in the background.

Danny’s twirling the bottle in his fingers, tugging at the label, which’s come up slightly at the corner. Steve sits and watches him, sensing he’s got something he wants to say, maybe _needs_ to say.

“Thank you, for tonight,” he whispers, not making eye contact. “I needed that.” He sighs, and sinks back further in his chair, his leg pressing even harder into Steve’s as he does. “I don’t know what’s been wrong with me lately, but it’s like I just can’t cope like I usually do.”

“It’s a lot to deal with, Danny,” Steve says, tentatively, unsure really if he should be talking, or if he should let Danny get something out.

Danny scoffs. “Yeah, well. It shouldn’t be.”

Steve scowls at that. “Says who?”

Danny just shrugs. “Plenty of people do it every day.”

He barely hides his disdain. “So?”

And Danny finally looks at Steve, and he stops breathing. “I don’t like doing it alone anymore.”

Steve swallows. Hard.

“Honestly, I never really did. I mean, I did in patches. But. I don’t like being alone.”

“So don’t be.” He’s surprised, once he’s said it, that it actually came out, aloud, because he’s felt like he’s been screaming it inside his head, and words like it, for so long, it’s been almost shocking that Danny’s never heard it before now.

Danny sets his beer down. Turns in his chair, moving his leg so it breaks that contact and Steve shivers like he’s suddenly cold, and he almost feels like he is. “Don’t go, tonight. Just. Please.” And he stands, placing a hand, briefly on Steve’s shoulder, lifting it before he can bring his hand up to grab it, so he grabs his own bare shoulder, and quivers at the loss of contact.

“Okay, kids, let’s watch half the movie, then it’s bedtime,” Danny calls, as he tosses the disk at Grace.

Charlie comes bolting out of his room, and lands on the sofa, in the middle, next to Grace, which leaves Steve and Danny separated by both kids. Grace gives him an encouraging smile, then presses play.

It’s not even half way into the movie when Charlie nods off, falling against Steve’s shoulder and into his lap. He winds up focusing more on the soft, sweet head of the little boy he never knew he’d grow so fond of, brushing the hair out of his eyes. He’s pretty sure Danny’s watching him and not the movie, and he grows self-conscious about his actions, so he kicks his feet out under the coffee table and tries to relax. Grace keeps the movie going, but turns the sound down, getting up saying she’s got so much work to get done, and moves back over to the table.

Which leaves Steve and Danny close but not close enough, and with Charlie in between. Danny leans back against the arm of the sofa, reaching his feet under the table to bump up against Steve’s. He’s turned away from the TV, and is just watching Steve with Charlie.

“He loves you, you know.”

Steve grins. “He’s stolen a pretty big piece of my heart,” he admits.

They sit like that for a while longer, and it’s like the air’s thick with something and they don’t want to disturb it. It feels soft and heavy and comforting, almost golden in its warmth.  

Grace makes a soft sound, clearing her throat, and the thickness starts to dissipate. She stacks her books, turns off the light over the table, and walks over to the boys. Sitting carefully on the coffee table, she smiles at them all.

“This is adorable, but he really should go to bed.”

Steve nods at her, and lifts Charlie easily, to carry him to his room. As he goes, he hears Grace whisper something to Danny, then the TV’s being turned off, the lights dimmed, and Steve doesn’t know what else happens, because he’s tucking Charlie into bed, and his heart is a glow with the sweetness of it. He kisses Charlie’s forehead, brushing that impossibly soft hair back from his face, and whispers “Sleep tight, buddy,” before getting up, and turning off the light.

He’s standing in the doorway, watching the rise and fall of the little body, listening to the soft sounds of breathing, when he feels two strong, warm arms reach around him from behind. He gasps, just slightly, and leans back into the embrace. Danny’s hands come up to his chest, and he tugs, the slight tinge of desperation, of longing, seeping into Steve’s skin through his shirt.

“God, that’s hot,” Danny whispers into his back, and he’s not really sure it is because he shivers in response.

Steve turns in Danny’s arms and looks down, not sure what he’s going to see, hoping it’s a look he doesn’t recognize.

It is, and it isn’t. Because, really, it’s the way Danny always looks at him. Fond, frustrated, grateful, exasperated, slightly irritated, really soft, really warm. He thinks there’s more heat there than usual, but he might just be feeling it, putting it into the gaze, because Danny’s body feels like a heater against his own.

“Grace’s gone to shower.”

Steve nods, lets Danny lead him back to the sofa. Tries to remember to breathe. Thinks he must be failing because he feels way too lightheaded for his own good.

They sit, close but not quite touching, arms around the back of the sofa, laying gently against each other, feet easing out back under the table, resting just lightly, ankle touching ankle. They don’t talk, they don’t look at each other. When Grace comes out of the shower, wrapped in her robe, she smiles fondly at them. Coming up behind the sofa, she kisses them each on the top of the head. She leans in and whispers in Steve’s ear.

“See you in the morning.”

He has to bite his lips together to keep from reacting, so he doesn’t hear what she whispers in Danny’s ear, or if she even does, but he does catch that she hits him, not terribly softly, on the arm, as she heads to her room, shutting the door softly, but with finality, and also, it feels like to Steve, a message.

He breathes for a while, to make sure he knows how to still, then without looking at Danny: “What was that about?”

Danny huffs out a soft breath. “I think you know,” and when Steve turns at that, sees Danny, glowing, smiling, all heat and promise, Steve knows he can’t breathe, probably ever again, and he doesn’t really mind, because he seems to be floating, and everything is in slow motion, like one of those awful movies Danny loves, and he’s being wrapped up in a soft, fluffy, almost too warm wave of something that he almost wants to say tastes like candy, and then Danny’s lips are on his, and he’s falling....

It’s sometime later that he realizes he’s landed, on Danny’s bed, and it’s cold, and he can’t figure out why, until he realizes that Danny’s not there, not touching him, and he whimpers at the loss of contact. Then he hears the shower in Danny’s en suite, and maybe it’s instinctive, being drawn to the water, but he’s trailing clothes as he follows the sound, and he gasps as he sees Danny, golden and compact and glistening, standing in the doorway to the shower. He steps backward, under the spray of water, and Steve stumbles as he tries to rid himself of his boxers, and the water’s hot, but Danny presses him back against the cold tile, and the contrast is too much. He lets himself fall against the wall, slides down just a little so they’re slotted perfectly, so fucking perfectly against each other, and he knows this won’t take long at all. They’re trying to be quiet, and the effort is clearly frustrating Danny. He takes it out in kisses that are more like bites, and Steve thinks he probably deserves that, so he lets Danny use him as a silencer, and god, the thought alone does things to Steve’s body he’s pretty sure he’s never felt before, and it doesn’t last long, not nearly long enough, and the kisses soften after, and Steve’s arms go around Danny to hold him up as he starts to crumble. They manage somehow to rinse off to some degree, dry not very well, and Danny makes them put on tees and sleep shorts, and wearing clothes that smell of Danny is definitely one of Steve’s new favorite things—though that’s a very long list at this point in the evening.

Sleep comes for them both before they recover enough to talk, but they awake a while before their alarms go off, and lay, tangled in each other’s arms, gazing softly, warmly, and somewhat dazedly at each other.

“Now what?” Danny finally asks. But he’s not freaking out, and Steve sends blessings to all the gods of the islands for that.

“Now,” Steve says, kissing the hand he’s holding. “I have a feeling I’m making pancakes for your kids.”

Danny grins. And he doesn’t say it, but he doesn’t have to, because Steve knows that was just exactly the perfect answer.

Sure enough, by the time they get up and brush teeth and kiss maybe a little too long, and pull back before things get dangerous, and wait, laughing, while they settle down enough to emerge from the bedroom... they walk into the kitchen, and Grace has coffee brewing, and the stuff for pancakes sitting on the counter. She kisses each of them on the cheek, hands them each a mug of coffee, and leans back against the counter, eyeing them both far too closely for probably either of their liking.

“I’m just gonna say it once. And you can punish me later, Danno. But it’ll so be worth it.” She pushes off the counter, moves towards the door. “It’s about fucking time.” And she rushes out the door, presumably to go wake Charlie before Danny can yell at her for language or sentiment or both.

But he doesn’t, he just laughs, sets his mug down, and pulls Steve in for a kiss. “I couldn’t agree more,” he whispers to Steve’s lips.

When Grace and Charlie come back in, they’re still kissing, and Charlie adds himself to the embrace, hugging one each of their legs.

“I guess I’m making the pancakes, then,” Grace says, and when Steve breaks the kiss to offer to help, she grins and waves him back to his preoccupation. “Charlie, come help me,” she untangles him from their legs and pulls up a stool so he can help.

Danny pushes Steve back enough they can both have some space, and Steve’s relieved he’s finally figured breathing out again. They drink their coffee, watch the kids make not as much of a mess as Danny usually does, and maybe the kids are a little late to school, but Steve jokes about immunity and surely just this once, it’s okay.

Really, he thinks, it’s a whole lot more than okay.


End file.
